“You’re doing it again.” Mary cocked her head. “Like one of those sarcastic mean girls who lets you sit at their lunch table so they can talk about you behind your back and how your mom accidentally packed koala nuggets and banana-flavored milk in your 21 Jump Street lunch box that had lip gloss marks over Peter DeLuise’s face because you practiced kissing it in case you ever got a chance to do it in real life even though all the other girls loved Johnny Depp but you were holding out for him because you knew Peter would understand and respect you.” “That was weirdly specific.”
